The Seduction
by Khellandra
Summary: Donovan's going to seduce her (again) to ensure her safety and the successful completion of his mission... except she's not co-operating.


**The Seduction**

  
by Alice Robson  
_  


Disclaimer: The character of Frank Donovan belongs to Shane Salerno and NBC Entertainment. No copyright infringement intended.   
Summary: Donovan needs to seduce her (again) to ensure her own safety and the succesful completion of his mission... except she's not co-operating.   
Author notes: I like Donovan and UC just fine - but never intended to, never wanted to write about him/them. That said, I had to write this - it is simply a scene that's been playing in my head; there won't be more story to it than what's here now.

_   
****

Donovan glanced at the woman beside him, and saw the dazzled expression in her eyes. He felt a surge of anger which he quickly suppressed. It was evident she had never met anyone like Heinemann and she was more than willing to be charmed. 

He was going to have to take steps to make sure she didn't fall under Heinemann's spell.

Tonight, Donovan decided, she wasn't going to sleep alone. It was time to reinforce the bonds that had been established the night he had made her his. He wanted to be very certain she knew where her loyalties lay.

  


~*~

  


She was aware of Donovan's presence the moment he stepped into her bedroom; he made no sound, but some anticipatory instinct made her open her eyes and turn her head on the pillow. She saw him silhouetted in the now open doorway; a dark figure haloed by the soft amber light pouring into open doorway from the other room.

He had watched her laugh and talk with Heinemann during dinner, and she had seen the cold, calculating expression is his eyes. Their host might not have noticed it, but she hadn't missed his disapproval, and the dangerous, dark quality of his gaze had seared her nerve endings.

Donovan was either a little jealous of Heinemann, or very annoyed with her for her not having found Heinemann threatening. She had enough common sense to guess that, of the two, latter was the case. Whatever the reason was, she had fully expected to be on the defensive later for whatever infraction he thought she had committed.

But there had been no sizzling lectures in bathroom with the shower running to cover Donovan's words. Nor had he kicked the door to her room open when she had deliberately closed it after preparing for bed. Instead, she had crawled into bed and lain awake in the darkness. Eventually the sense of wary expectation had given way to drowsiness. 

It wasn't fair that the man moved like a ghost, she thought now as she watched Donovan come soundlessly towards the bed, moving with feline grace. She didn't trick herself - she knew the motivation behind his presence in her room, and it wasn't uncontrollable desire, or overriding passion, or undying love. No, he viewed her enjoyment of Heinemann's company as a potential threat to the completion of his mission, and intended to re-establish the claim he thought he had on her. Part of her resented him for that, for the seemingly effortless control he held over her emotions, for the equally easy seeming control he held over his own emotions - yet another part secretly reveled it, and an insistent throb was already beginning in her veins - her body remembered all too well the exquisite pleasure of their love making. 

She could try to reassure him that he had nothing to worry about - that she was keeping an open mind, she thought as he came towards her through darkness. But that sort of conversation was difficult to have when they had to watch out for every word for fear of hidden microphones.

Donovan stopped beside the bed, and she saw the catlike gleam in his eyes. He was wearing only his briefs; she could easily see he was already partially aroused. Aware of the tension climbing between them, she knew that if she intended to talk, the time was now. And she had better do it quickly.

"Donovan," she managed to say even as he put one knee on the bed, reaching out to stroke her shoulder. The bed gave beneath his weight. "The bathroom --"

"No." His voice was smooth and velvety, and even though he had pitched his volume barely above a whisper, the commanding tone of it rang clear in her ears. "There's no need for talk. Not now."

She read his intent in his gleaming eyes and the way he held his body. She rolled from under his hand pushing the bed covers away and rising to her knees on the other side of the bed. Her breath came quickly as she faced him, locking her gaze on him.

"Come here, you know you want me. I can make you want me."

The resentment bubbling inside her flared and metamorphosed into a strange sort of anger. "Who the hell do you think you are -- just walking into my bedroom like this and try and seduce me?" Her voice came out just as low as his, a soft feminine hiss of challenge.

"Sweetheart, you know you don't want to fight me. You want to feel what you felt in my arms the other night. You want to give yourself to me."

"Oh really? And what makes you an expert on me? No, don't answer that - I have a lot more difficult question for you, Donovan. What do you want?"

"That's easy - I want to be inside you. I want to bury myself in you, and I want to feel you shiver in pleasure around me, so hot and perfect and beautiful." His voice was seduction itself, low and smooth and velvety. "I want to feel exactly how much you need me."

Her pulse leapt at the vivid mental images his words induced - but she couldn't allow him sweep her away like he had the other night. She wasn't some hapless girl he could mold for his purposes as he saw fit - she wouldn't let him.

"I don't need you any more than you need me." The words were meant as a statement of fact, or perhaps as a reassurance - but somehow they came out a defiant challenge.

"Come close, sweetheart, and we'll find out how much we want each other." 

She shook her head slowly, deliberately. "I won't let you do it, I won't make love with you while you're in this mood. You're only intent on proving to yourself and to me that you can control me, and I won't have it - you got away with the heavy-handed seduction routine the first time, Donovan, but I'm not letting you do it again."

"Heavy-handed?" Donovan lifted his eyebrow, but otherwise his expression was as inscrutable as ever; she couldn't even begin to tell what was going in that head of his.

"Well, it was very deliberate, wasn't it? You seduced me as a part of your --" She saw his eyes narrow and belatedly remembered the need to watch their conversation. She didn't believe for a moment that Heinemann had bugged this room but she had promised Donovan she'd be careful with her words.

"I wanted you very badly the other night; I want you more now. If that feels like a deliberate, heavy- handed seduction to you, I can't argue. Emotional interpretations are relative, different for everyone, especially women. But I think it's unfair for both of us, to label our lovemaking that way. There are a hundred different avenues for desire - most of them don't have names."

"Don't try using any of your fancy mind tricks on me, I'm not buying it. I don't think you're any kind of expert, not on this particular subject, and I won't let you play your mind games this time. I won't let you manipulate me."

The bastard didn't even bother to deny he was trying to manipulate her. 

"Easy, honey, just relax and come to me."

Sensing a change in the way Donovan was balancing himself, she leapt off the bed. "Stay right where you are. Don't you dare try using any of your -- your tricks on me." As she bounced to her feet, Donovan slowly stood up. His eyes gleamed in the darkness of the bedroom; the soft amber light from the other room provided just enough illumination to define his uncompromising jaw line and the sleek contours of his body as he began to circle the bed, coming towards her with smooth, confident strides.

"You're the one who's playing games now. What game are you playing with me tonight, honey? It was a mistake to let you sleep alone last night."

She backed away from him. "I _chose_ to sleep alone last night, and I choose to sleep alone tonight."

Donovan eyed her, infuriatingly calm. "You'll change your mind in a few minutes."

"You're talking about me playing games - but that's exactly what you're doing with our relationship -- toying with it like a cat toys with a mouse -- using it, shaping it to your advantage."

Donovan grinned briefly. "You're not much of a mouse, sweetheart."

"I'm not joking, Donovan." She risked a quick glance over her shoulder; the wall was less than two feet away - there was no more room to run.

"Neither am I."

She gaged the distance the best she good and then dove wildly past him.

"Damn it!"

For the first time the entire evening, she heard genuine emotion in Donovan's voice - unfortunately it was chiefly annoyance and frustration - but she didn't have time to take even minimal satisfaction from it; suddenly his arm was in the middle of her flight path, coiling around her and she came up against his chest with a quiet thud. She found her face pressed against shoulder and his warm, clean, masculine scent assaulted her senses. Her heart fluttered, or maybe it was her stomach - something fluttered, somewhere.

"Let me go." Her words were muffled against his skin. All in all, in her opinion, she was doing an excellent job of ignoring the cool, satiny skin and hard muscles and planes and contours that she felt all along her body. Never mind that suddenly she couldn't seem to draw enough breath, or that a sweet, insidious desire had begun to coil in the pit of her stomach.

"No, honey, not yet - not for a long time." He started to fold her closer, his other arm coming around her as well, locking her to him. She reacted instinctively, driving her small fist into his ribs. It felt as if though she had struck a brick wall - but she had the satisfaction of hearing Donovan breath in sharply. His grip on her loosed lightly and she danced back out of his reach. He wasn't invincible; a new kind of excitement washed over her.

"So you're not so tough after all, are you?" Her mood was shifting with rapidity that left her feeling europhic. A wave of adrenaline seemed to have released itself in her bloodstream, and she found herself enjoying the heady feeling of power. "I warned you not to try your tricks on me. I took a self-defense class once, you know."

"Is that so?"

"Damn straight." She edged a few more steps away. The self-defense class had been a three-hour seminar conducted by a policewoman the museum had hired to instruct female employees in certain emergency measures. That had been over a year ago, and she was realistic enough to know she shouldn't push her luck too far.

"Are you sure you want to turn this into a battle, honey?"

"What I'm sure of, is that I want you to go back to your room and leave me in peace."

"I can't do that."

"Try."

"And leave you here by yourself? To think about what a charming, cosmopolitan man Heinemann is? Not a chance, sweetheart. You are going to think about me tonight."

The breath caught in her throat. "Are you jealous by any chance, Donovan?"

His eyes were fathomless. "Is that what you want? Is that why you were doting on Heinemann's every word tonight? To see if you could whip up some jealousy?"

"Not much of a chance of that, now is there?" She shot back, spurred on to a rashness she knew she would most likely regret. "You've got too much cold blood flowing in your veins."

Something flashed in his eyes, in spite of the precarious situation, she felt a flicker of triumph; it was dangerous to prod Frank Donovan but at times it seemed the only way to find out what was beneath his cool, totally controlled surface.

"Maybe what I need is your warmth to take the chill off, honey."

In a few long swift strides he breached the distance, his hand snapping out to catch her by the nape of her neck even as she tried wildly to duck back away from him.

"Damn it, Donovan, I'm not going to make this easy for you." She hissed, bringing her hands up in an effort to break his hold and shoved against his chest. He didn't so much as budge; she tried dislodging the gentle grip on her nape with both hands; he continued drawing her inexonerably towards the bed. She tried another rib punch, keenly aware that she was severely hampered in the battle - the knee-in-the-groin routine and the finger-in-the-eye bit were definitely off limits. She didn't want to really hurt Donovan - she wasn't fighting for her life or virtue; she was just trying to make one very stubborn, thick-headed man aware of her on a very vital level. She'd force him to be just as emotionally involved with her as she was with him - even if it meant a knock-down, drag-out battle royal.

Donovan didn't seem to notice her side punch, but he must have felt her heel when she brought it down fiercely on his bare toes for reacted immediately. He swore, something very short and very rude, and used his convenient grip on the nape of her neck to yank her off his foot and then he gave her a small shake.

"You little witch - I ought to turn you over my knee."

She gave him a fierce, reckless smile that showed all her fine white teeth, and this time she didn't use her heel; she used her whole foot. She hooked it around his ankle and tugged violently. He didn't lose his balance but he finally lost his temper.

"That does it," He said through clenched teeth. "If you want to do this the hard way, we'll do it the hard way." He swung her off her feet and into his arms, ignoring her twisting, wriggling efforts to get away. 

In two strides he reached the bed and tossed her down across the rumpled sheets. Her bare legs dangled over the edge and, before she could scramble away, Donovan stepped between her knees. He spread his legs in a wide stance that had the instant effect of prying her legs far apart. Her nightgown was scrunched up around her buttocks, providing no modesty or protection at all. She lay open and vulnerable, hair tumbled around her shoulders and eyes widening at the realization that she might have gone too far. Hands on hips, Donovan stood looking at her.

Breath hitched in her throat. An implacable, deeply sensual expression etched his full mouth, filled the glittering pools of his eyes. She could feel the new level of tension radiating from him; he was no longer the cool, calculated lover who had entered her bedroom intent on cold-blooded seduction. She had his full attention now, on every level. She tried to tell herself that was what she had wanted but that didn't do much to cut through the belated sense of wariness growing in the pit of her stomach. 

When all was said and done, she knew very little about Frank Donovan. She was taking chances with a stranger that she hadn't taken before with anyone; she was trusting her instincts when she probably ought to be listening to reason.

"Anything else you learned on the self-defense class of yours you'd like to try before we stop playing games?" His voice was silky with menace.

She levered herself up on elbows, aware of the crisp hair of his legs on the insides of her wantonly spread thighs. She felt so very vulnerable. "You're delusional if you think I'm going to give you any advance notice of my next move. You'd better be very careful of what you decide to do next."

His eyes glittered as he shoved his briefs down off his hips and kicked them aside. "Don't worry, little witch, I'll be very, very careful." He reached out to touch her with open hand.

She stared, entranced by the sight of huge, pulsing shaft as it thrust towards her. Then she flinched and gulped for breath as he boldly combed his fingers through the triangle of dark hair that guarded her warm secrets. She was aware of the shocking, sweet sensitivity of his touch in every fiber of her body. It freed a wild excitement in her and at the same time reassured her. No man who touched a woman in this exquisitely sensitive way would ever hurt her.

"Donovan", she breathed, his name a whisper of longing in the darkness. Still braced on her elbows she trembled and knew he could feel the tremors in her legs as he stood between her thighs.

"Do you like playing such dangerous games, sweetheart?" His touch became more intimate. 

He slid one finger across the small pleasure bud hidden in the soft hair and she sucked in her breath. Part of her felt so excruciatingly vulnerable and sensitized that she didn't think she could bear the deliciously erotic caress. The other part of her wanted to arch her lower body closer to his hand in a silent plea for more. The conflicting sensations came together in a hot spiral of emotion. Not knowing which action she wanted to take, she settled for the safer of the two. She used her elbows as a lever and tried to scramble backward on the bed. 

Donovan's other hand grasped her upper leg and held her in place. "You're not going anywhere, honey. Not until you've apologized for all the trouble you've put me through tonight." 

"What about the trouble you've put me through?"

"Your problems have just begun," he informed her with deep satisfaction. He stroked his finger lower, finding his target easily. 

"Oh! Frank, please." She gasped for breath and her nails dug into the rumpled sheets, unaware that she had lapsed back into calling him by his Christian name. Her eyes squeezed shut and her head tipped back as she felt his fingers tracing an intricate design around her heated flesh. 

"Please what? Please touch you here?" He parted her with the tip of his finger and she shivered. "Or here?" He edged his hand a little lower. "You're going to have to spell it out, honey. You're going to have to tell me exactly what you want. And then I think I'll wait until you're begging me before I take you completely. I'm in a mood to let your punishment fit your crime." 

"Damn you!" But it was more of a plea than a curse. 

"Try again. I want the sweet, hot words... All of them." He edged her thighs another inch or two apart and his thumb moved over the small nubbin again. Another large finger was circling the opening of her body, coaxing forth a honeyed flood that dampened his hand. This time she didn't try to pull away; this time there was no uncertainty or confusion in her reaction. She wanted more of him inside her. She lifted her hips against his hand. 

"Say it, sweetheart. Tell me exactly what you want. Then we'll both be sure." Donovan's words were even hotter than the flowing warmth between her legs. 

"Touch me. Please, touch me, Frank. There. Yes, like that. Inside me. Deeper." The plea was squeezed out of her, infinitely hard for her to say aloud, but even harder, apparently, for him to resist. 

Donovan watched her face, drinking in the signs of her mounting passion as she quivered under his hand. She knew he was watching her intently and it only seemed to add fuel to the fire within her. When he teased her with his finger, easing just barely inside her and then withdrawing, she grew impatient. 

"More," she begged. 

"How much more?" 

With a low moan of frustration, she reached down to catch his wrist and force him to penetrate her more deeply with his finger. She shuddered as he willingly obliged. 

"Ah," He said softly. "Is that what you want?"

"I may strangle you when this is over." 

"Think of it as justice. Sweet justice." He introduced another finger into her and when she cried out with excitement he began slowly separating his fingers, stretching her gently. He released his grip on her thigh and used his free hand to lightly graze the throbbing bud of her desire. 

She nearly came apart in his hands. She was wild for him now, arching upward, clutching at him in an effort to drag him down across her body 

"Now, Frank. Please, now, or I'll go crazy." 

"We're going to find out what happens when you go crazy. I want to watch." 

"I will strangle you. I swear it." 

"But not just now, right?" 

"Did anyone ever tell you that you can be a real bastard?" 

"Yes. But somehow it sounds different coming from you." 

"I hate you!" 

"No, you love me." And she couldn't deny it. He edged the two fingers deeper, widening the slick, hot channel. When she trembled violently, he sank down on his knees between her legs. 

Slowly he withdrew his fingers. She cried out in protest, but when she felt his hands on her inner thighs, she suddenly realized what was about to happen. Donovan's warm breath fanned the damp, glistening curls at the juncture of her legs and her overwhelming excitement metamorphosed into overwhelming panic.

"Donovan, don't. Stop it. Not like this. I don't want you to do that, not like this..." She was flushing furiously, starting to struggle. 

He paid no attention to her stammering pleas. His fingers clamped gently into the soft skin of her inner legs, holding her in position, and then his tongue was on her in the most intimate of all kisses. 

She gasped at the familiar caress. She tried desperately to retreat from the silky touch of his tongue. And then her panic changed back into the most unnerving kind of desire. The wildness returned, claiming her completely. She shuddered again and again as he tasted the heart of her.

Then she lost control completely. The coiling tension inside her gave way with a convulsive snap that sent incredible pleasures lashing through her. 

Donovan released her and came down on top of her before the convulsions had dimmed. He drove himself into her, groaning thickly when her body tightened instantly around him and sucked him deeply inside. She could feel him, hot and huge inside her, filling her to the limit, stretching her body and the bounds of sensation until another shivering release cascaded through her. 

Donovan tried to pull out a short distance but ended up surging back into her hot sheath, unable to resist the pull of her climax. It sparked his own, a bolt of lightning in a hot, dry forest. The wildfire consumed him. 

She clung to him as she felt him spill himself inside her. For a timeless instant she was bound to Donovan and he was chained to her. She could feel the invisible forces linking them and hope washed through her even as the last of the sensual pleasure faded from her veins. 

It may not have been the safest way to let Donovan make love to her, but at least she knew for certain she was getting some genuine emotion from him. She didn't want to think about the emotion he was getting from her; she was certain there was far too much of it. It was dangerous to let him know she was this vulnerable to him, but there was no way to avoid it. All she could do was endeavor to take him with her whenever she lost control in his arms. 

  


~*~

  


Donovan opened his eyes slowly; still half intoxicated by the warm, spicy scent of her perspiration damp body. One of her legs was still curled around his. Her fingers were trailing across his shoulder and around the back of his neck as if she were conducting an idle survey of him.

He stretched slowly, flexing his back muscles as he carefully eased himself out of her clinging warmth. He looked down at her and saw her watching him through a veil of lashes. He realized he felt totally replete and completely drained. It was an effort just to move off of her and lay down beside her, but he managed it. A moment later his legs dangled over the edge alongside hers. He put a hand on her thigh, squeezing gently. 

He felt good. Better than good. He felt magnificent. All conquering, all-powerful and filled with a gracious, generous tenderness toward the vanquished. 

The only problem was that once again he wasn't quite sure which of them was the vanquished. How did she do it to him? How did she pull him so thoroughly into the sensual storm? He had intended to ride that thunder and control it, but it never seemed to work out that way. Instead she pushed him and goaded him and beat on him until he lost the self-control he had taken for granted for years, and the next thing he knew he was sucked into the heart of the whirlwind, his emotions raging as wildly as hers. 

Donovan grinned suddenly in the darkness. At least they went over the edge together. She was such a stubborn little thing, so bound and determined not to be the only victim of the seduction. Well, he could afford to overlook her initial stubbornness. She had learned her lesson and he had gotten more than he'd bargained for when he had decided that it was time to remind her where her loyalties lay.

  


~~The End~~

  



End file.
